The ThirtySeventh Chapter
by dodaday22
Summary: DH SPOILERS! This story continues after the last chapter in DH Ch 36 not the epilogue . It focuses on how Harry and everyone else are dealing with the aftermath of Voldemort's defeat. Multiple parts. HG, RHr, other canon couples. FINALLY UPDATED!
1. After

Harry slowly opened his eyes as the sun streamed through a gap in the maroon hangings surrounding his bed. He had woken in this same spot hundreds of times before, but now it felt different. And not only because this was the first time he had been here in almost a year. It was something else. The **only **thing else. Voldemort had finally been defeated. _"Neither can live while the other survives"_ echoed through his head. He had finally achieved what he had been meant to do for his entire life. He had won.

And yet, Harry couldn't for the life of him come up with a word to describe how he was feeling at the moment. It certainly wasn't 'happy'. More like a mix of relieved and disbelieving, with random pangs of sadness thrown in. Harry knew that his actions the night before had basically saved the entire wizarding race from an almost certain doom, and yet he had spent the whole night dreaming about those he was too late to save. His parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Dobby; even Hedwig had made an appearance. And of course there were the freshest wounds of all: Fred, Lupin and Tonks had drifted through, congratulating him on his great achievement. And all he could do was yell back at them and all the others cheering him, tell them that he didn't deserve any of their praise. It was his fault, all his fault, that they were dead. Every single one of them had been sacrificed for him. Harry had laid there for hours, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of the horrible feeling of guilt that had settled in his stomach. Voldemort was gone, but so much pain still remained.

As Harry tried to force himself to think of something happier, a familiar head popped through the curtains. Harry jumped.

"Jesus, Ron. You're lucky I don't sleep naked."

Ron forced a laugh, but still looked much paler than normal.

"Sorry. I've just been awake for awhile . . . couldn't really sleep."

"Yeah, me too," Harry replied. He started to get out of bed.

"Common room?" Ron shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Sure."

After quickly pulling on a t-shirt and some socks, Harry followed Ron out of the dormitory, past the sleeping forms of Dean, Seamus and Neville. They entered the mostly empty common room, looking around for familiar faces. Harry soon spotted a bushy brunette and two redheads sitting around the fire and headed in that direction, Ron following closely behind. Harry couldn't deny the slight increase in happiness he felt as his eyes met Ginny's. She gave him a small smile and he took the empty space beside her on the couch. Meanwhile, Ron plopped down on the floor in front of Hermione, who quickly linked hands with him from the chair above. George sat directly across from them in his own armchair, looking more grief stricken than seemed possible, and stared into the flames.. Ron watched him for a good ten seconds and swallowed hard as he prepared to speak.

"So where's everyone else?" he asked. Harry expected Ginny to answer, but George was apparently paying more attention than he appeared to be.

"Professor McGonagall gave Mum and Dad someplace to sleep. Bill, Charlie and Percy were all in the First Year Dormitory with me," he explained, his voice cracking.

"So they're still sleeping?" asked Ron.

"Or at least trying to," replied George.

Everyone else nodded with understanding. Harry leaned his head back against the couch in frustration. He couldn't take the fact that he had to deal with losing yet another person he had loved, the fact that he could feel the tears Ginny was crying next to him and yet could do nothing to stop them. Last night he had placed all his focus on defeating Voldemort and had ignored everything else. But now he had nothing else to focus on, nothing except the horrible grief that he could not escape.

After spending awhile longer just sitting there, the five of them decided to head down to the Great Hall for, if nothing else, at least a change of scenery. Apparently, a few other people had the same thought. Professor McGonagall sat at the head of the Hall, conversing with Professor Flitwick. Hagrid was enjoying his own lunch awhile down the staff table, with Grawp at his side. Harry was surprised to see that the house elves had still managed to prepare a full meal for everyone, mere hours after the battle had ended. Only a few other teachers populated the table, and Harry hoped sincerely that the rest were simply sleeping and nothing worse. He turned his attention to the rest of the Hall. The Slytherin table remained empty, but as Harry entered with Hermione and the three Weasleys, he saw many of his fellow students seated at the other three, turning to face him. A few seconds later, a thunderous applause broke out. Ginny squeezed his hand and Harry smiled at his peers and teachers, but he couldn't help feeling like he didn't really deserve all this praise. Having Ginny at his side, however, did make it a lot easier to accept.

As the applause died out, Harry headed over to sit at the Gryffindor table, where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had already started eating. Ginny silently slipped her hand out of Harry's and went over to comfort her mother, who had started to sob over her pudding. Harry understood; he instead headed over to Ron and Hermione, who had taken seats next to Mr. Weasley. Hermione was watching someone with a look of deep concern on her face; Harry followed her gaze and saw George standing between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, looking completely lost. He was about to go over to him when he saw Lee Jordan get up. Lee put his arm around George and whispered a few words in his ear. George nodded and the two walked away together. Harry had no idea where they were going, but he was sure that if anyone could help George right now, it was Lee. Satisfied, he turned his attention back to the other Weasleys. Ginny had succeeded in calming down her mother, at least for now, and now appeared to be watching him. Without even thinking about what he was doing, he walked over to her and pulled her into a long kiss. Then without a word, he grabbed her hand and led her out of the room.

"Harry, what was that?!" Ginny exclaimed as soon as they reached the Entrance Hall. But she was smiling.

"I just . . I couldn't wait anymore," Harry replied. Ginny opened her mouth to say something but Harry interrupted her.

"I love you, Ginny." She looked momentarily shocked, but quickly composed herself and smiled.

"I love you too, Harry Potter."

Then she grabbed his hand and begin leading him upstairs. Harry caught on quickly and within minutes they were passionately making out on his bed. He was very grateful that Dean, Seamus and Neville had vacated the room since he had woken up. All the waiting, the sacrifice, - it had all been worth it. _This_ was happiness. His lips slowly withdrew from hers, after minutes and minutes of bliss, and Harry ran his fingers through her soft red hair. Ginny gazed into his eyes with a smile on her face and he began to gently undo her top. She placed her arms around his neck and he leaned forward ...

"Oi! You two are _revolting_!"

"Ron!" Ginny screeched, covering herself. Harry jumped up off the bed. "Hey mate," he said awkwardly. But Ron just kept mumbling.

"Ridiculous . . . can't even come into my own room without . . just _revolting_ . . ."

"Oh, like you and Hermione don't do the same thing," Ginny snarled.

"Well . . . I . . ." Ron opened his mouth but seemed at a loss for words. "Not in broad daylight!" He finally exclaimed.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"Well,anyway," Ron continued, having recovered from his recent shock, "McGonagall wants everyone in the Great Hall. Has a speech to make or something . . . kept going on about how _amazing_ you were last night, Harry. . . made it sound like the rest of us just sat around and watched –

"Well, I think he was pretty amazing . . ." said Ginny, raising her eyebrows and glancing at Harry mischievously.

"Oh, seriously. _Seriously._ Don't, don't start that again . . ." Ron stammered. "You two are ridiculous. I'll meet you down there."

As he left the room, Harry turned to Ginny. "So, do you think we really _need _to go?"

Ginny laughed. "Well, you did kind of save the whole wizarding world last night," she replied. "They're probably expecting an appearance."

"Yeah, I guess." Harry said as he started to leave the room.

But she continued. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

Ginny grinned. "For making me happy."

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. He turned to face her, planting a small kiss on her lips and then whispered softly in her ear, "You have no idea."


	2. Tears

Harry and Ginny walked into the Great Hall, hand in hand. Many more people were there than before; it seemed that practically everyone who had survived the battle was in attendance. Harry's reunion with Ginny had left him in high spirits, but he could sense the solemn mood as soon as they entered the Hall. It was much harder to ignore the previous night's tragic events when proof was lying just a few rooms away, in the form of fifty plus bodies. Harry's smile slid off his face as he and Ginny approached the grim group seated at the Gryffindor table. He saw Ginny's face fall and knew that she too had returned to her mourning state. They took seats together next to Ron and Hermione. Even Ron, who had been so like his usual self a few minutes prior, looked distraught, his eyes red-rimmed. Trying to ignore the grief that had surrounded him on all sides, Harry looked towards the staff table. After a few moments, Professor McGonagall stood up and started to speak.

"To many," she began, "today is a day for great celebration. And that is not wrong. An evil man has finally been defeated, never to return. It is an occasion certainly worthy of a party or too." She paused, and Harry saw the tears glittering in her eyes.

"But we are not the many," she continued. "Unlike them, we did not sit at home and wait for news of Voldemort's defeat to come. Unlike them, we did not hope that others would step up and accomplish what so many have failed to do. _We _were the ones that stepped up, that took part, that helped to ensure what will hopefully be an everlasting triumph of good over evil." A cheer rose up among the crowd, but Harry did not join in. He knew what was coming next.

"However," McGonagall broke in, "victories as great as this one are rarely achieved without sacrifice." The room became completely silent. "And it is those sacrifices that we honor today." She pulled a scroll out of her cloak, and began to read:

"Fifty-four of our people lost their lives last night in the Battle of Hogwarts. These fifty-four people were men and women, students and teachers, purebloods, half bloods, Muggle-borns. All these people who have one thing in common: They selflessly risked their lives last night and ended up making the ultimate sacrifice. They gave their lives so we could sit here today. And that is why we honor them . . ."

Harry already hear people sniffling as Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and began to read off the names:

"Anthony Goldstein, Ravenclaw House ... an extraordinary boy who was heading towards a great future ..."

Michael Corner and Terry Boot were sitting next to each other at the Ravenclaw table, looking hardened. Harry felt a pang of guilt; he had been a DA member. Had he not taught him well enough? Had he failed?

McGonagall continued reading; she rattled off the names of four students and one Auror – all of whom Harry had never heard of. And he felt sadness just the same; all these people gone, in just one night. . .

"Colin Creevey, Gryffindor House, a young man with more bravery than most of the people I have ever known . . ."

Harry remembered seeing Colin's body last night and how indifferent he had felt then, but now he was certainly making up for it. He could barely hold in his tears, and didn't even have to turn his head to know that Dennis Creevey was sitting a few feet away, sobbing in the arms of his Muggle parents. What a horrible way for them to first see Hogwarts, he thought to himself. He heard Ginny choking up next to him – of course she would be upset . . . he was in her year . . .

As Harry struggled to control his emotions, McGonagall kept up with her endless recitation. Ten more names were read, a few that seemed vaguely familiar to Harry. And yet they had all known him, had stayed to fight, to help _him_ . . .

"Professor Sinistra, the only current Hogwarts teacher to perish and an excellent one at that . . ."

Harry shook his head; he had had Sinistra for astronomy in previous years. She was a good person, she didn't deserve to die . . . But of course she didn't, Harry reminded himself. _None _of them did . . .

McGonagall continued. Another twenty names left her lips, another twenty who would never be again. And all Harry could do was wait and listen for more, for the names he dreaded the most . . .

"Zacharias Smith, Hufflepuff House . . ."

Harry's stomach flip-flopped. Another DA member . . . He was surprised Zacharias would have even chosen to stay, he had never seemed like the kind of guy to stand up and fight . . . But then again, people change. They change and they die and they never come back . . .

Seven more names – could they really not have reached fifty-four by now? Or at least fifty-one, there were still those three names . . . And just as Harry thought this, McGonagall's mouth opened again:

"Nymphadora Tonks . . . more commonly known at "Tonks", a brave Auror, wife and mother . . ."

Harry was on the breaking point; tears built up in his eyes, yearning to be set free. Hermione was already sobbing openly in Ron's arms a few feet away and Ginny looked on the verge herself . . .

Another five were read out. Harry felt even more pain, pain for those he had never known but mourned for anyway, and then finally, just the two left. . . McGonagall appeared to be losing control of her own emotions as she read out the first:

"Remus Lupin, former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher . . . a great man and a new father . . ."

Harry could barely take it; he was bursting at the seams, ready to explode . . . and finally, the last name . . . McGonagall herself was practically sobbing, barely able to get out the words:

"Fred Weasley, Gryf-Gryffindor House . . . a great young man . . . always happy. . . a wonderful brother-"

And then, Harry let it out. Like a dam breaking, tears began pouring rapidly out of his eyes. He cried not only for Fred and the other fifty-three but for everyone: Hermione and Ginny sobbing in each other's arms as Ron buried his face in his hands; George looking as if he himself had died and Percy awkwardly patting his back, with tears streaming down his cheeks; Mrs. Weasley wailing as Mr. Weasley tried helplessly to provide some comfort; Bill and Charlie sitting stone-faced but unable to hide the small tears that leaked out; his former Quidditch team, seated near the back, mourning their lost Beater; the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws crying for their own fallen members; the teachers, guilt-ridden over the loss of students that they could not protect. He cried even for those who weren't present - for his parents, victims of the first war, and Cedric, the first victim of the second. For Sirius, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Dobby and all those who had come and gone in between. For Severus Snape, who deserved the most glory and received the least . . .

And then, finally, as his tears began to dry and everyone in the hall started to compose themselves and bury their emotions deep once again, he let one final tear fall for himself, Harry Potter ... The Boy Who Lived.


	3. Friend and Foe

A mighty gust blew through the trees as Harry walked across the sprawling grounds. He passed Hagrid's cabin and stared at it distractedly, his mind wandering back to the conversation that had just taken place moments before . . .

_"You forgot Snape."_

_"Excuse me?" Professor McGonagall turned around, her eyes still slightly red._

_"The fifty-four people," Harry replied. "It should have been fifty-five."_

_Professor McGonagall glanced around the still-crowded Great Hall, looking wary. With a sort of exasperated sigh, she grasped Harry's arm and led him into one of its multiple side rooms. He glowered at her, his anger clearly displayed across his face._

_"Well?"_

_"Potter," she began. "You didn't honestly expect me to bring up a man everyone in that room has detested for twelve months, Dumbledore's __**murderer**__-"_

_"I told you!" He retorted angrily. "I told you, I told everyone; Dumbledore planned it – Snape was the good guy. He –"_

_"I know," McGonagall interrupted. "I hear you now and I heard you last night and__** I**__ believe you, but I'm not sure everyone else in that room does. Not even all of them were present for your explanation. I didn't wish to cause an uproar-"_

_"But you could have explained!" Harry roared. "You could have told them; they would have believed __**you **__. . ."_

_"Potter, I'm not even half sure myself what happened! I wasn't going to interrupt the mourning of hundreds with a retelling of Severus Snape's entire life. You have to understand, these people are __**devastated**__. They are not thinking logically enough right now to understand what went on between Snape and Dumbledore . . . When it comes to death, Harry, people are very stubborn-"_

_"But-"_

_"Mr Potter." McGonagall gave him a stern yet somewhat admiring look. "I will make sure everyone knows the truth about Severus Snape. I promise. But now is certainly not the proper time . . ."_

_Harry still wasn't satisfied, but he could see fighting was getting him nowhere._

_"Fine. I'm going." He turned and started to walk out._

_"Going where?" called McGonagall._

_"To get something."_

Harry headed towards the Whomping Willow, his head swirling with thoughts of his greasy-haired professor. The man who had hated him since the moment they met, a man who he had gladly hated back, and yet here he was – protecting his honor and sneaking off under the Invisibility Cloak to retrieve his body. If Ron was there, he would certainly be muttering about how "mental" Harry was. But he wouldn't understand.

Honestly, even Harry himself didn't really understand his actions at the moment. After he had discovered the truth about Severus Snape late the night before, there had been very little time for him to process all the new information. The little matter of sacrificing himself to defeat Voldemort had taken precedence over everything else. But now that he had time to think, Harry was very mixed-up. He felt obligated to ensure that Snape received the respect he desired, and yet he was feeling rather weird about the more personal side of Snape that he had glimpsed. If Snape had really loved his mother that much, then why had he tried so intensely to make Harry's life horrible? But then again, Snape had devoted himself fully to helping Dumbledore, and in turn Harry, for practically the last seventeen years of his life. He had risked so much for the boy he hated, the son of his one true love. Was it really possible that one person could be so good and so evil all in one lifetime? Harry's head was reeling. He finally chose to push all these conflicting thoughts from his mind and, at least for that moment, focus only on the task at hand.

Harry quickly froze the Whomping Willow using a long branch that was lying nearby, and headed inside. Like the night before, he was forced to crawl on his hands and knees to make it through the passageway. Harry finally stepped into the Shrieking Shack and pulled off his cloak. He was standing only feet away from Snape's body now. Harry slowly walked closer, and couldn't avoid staring into Snape's lifeless black eyes. With a shudder, he recalled his professor's words the night before. . .

_"Look . . .at . . . me . . ." he whispered._

And Harry had looked, and watched the very last bits of life leave Snape's body. He thought back to those last few seconds, suddenly considering what would have happened if he had stayed away from the Shrieking Shack. Snape would have died alone, taking all his deepest secrets with him. He would have died a hated man - a believed murderer and most loyal follower of the Dark Lord. As Harry slowly closed Snape's eyes and began to levitate his body toward the passageway, he thought about how Snape must have known that such an end was certainly a possibility. That the chances that he would ever receive full forgiveness and respect from his fellow wizards were slim, if not nonexistent. And yet Snape had agreed to risk everything to help their side, and to ultimately help bring about the permanent defeat of Voldemort. Harry considered all this as he guided Snape's body in front of him, slowly crawling through the narrow tunnel leading back to Hogwarts. And as he covered Snape's body with the Invisibility Cloak and began to crawl out of the Whomping Willow, Harry finally realized what he had known all along. Despite the frequent taunting of "Mudbloods" in his younger years, his decades of devotion to the Darkest wizard of all time, and all the endless torture he had put Harry through in every Potions class, there was one thing that was sure about Severus Snape:

In the end, he was a good man.

------------------------------------------

After cautiously making his way into the castle and through the Great Hall, Harry placed Snape's body in the side room with all the others. As much as he hated to leave it, he chose to keep the Invisibility Cloak covering the body until he at least told McGonagall it was there. Checking one last time to make sure it was completely covered, Harry turned and left the room. He quickly walked to the exit, refusing to glance at any of the tens of bodies surrounding him. As he stepped into the hall, Harry noticed it was much emptier than before. Seeing very few familiar faces, he decided to head upstairs.

The Gryffindor common room was full of students talking animatedly or entertaining themselves with games of Gobstones and Wizard Chess. As soon as he entered, Harry saw a familiar redhead disappearing up the stairs to the dormitories. He quickly crossed the room, ignoring the various people who called his name, and followed. Harry made his way up to the 7th year boys' dorm and entered, only a few seconds after Ron. The redhead jumped as he heard the door slam.

"Jesus Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "You bloody scared me!"

"Sorry," Harry replied, laughing.

"Where have you been anyway?" Ron questioned.

"I –" Harry consider telling Ron the truth, but decided he didn't really feel like explaining. "I was just taking a walk . . ."

Ron gave him a weird look, but seemed to accept his answer anyway.

"So, Mum said we're probably going to leave tomorrow; McGonagall announced that the Hogwarts Express will be running back and forth for people who want to take it."

"But what about finals and stuff? Doesn't Ginny have to stay?"

"Well, the castle's not exactly in prime condition right now. I think they're gonna send everyone home and then maybe resume exams when everything's repaired."

Harry nodded. Then another question hit him.

"So, we're going to the Burrow?" he asked.

"Yeah. I mean - now that you defeated Voldemort, there's really no reason to stay away, right?

Harry nodded.

"And besides," Ron continued. "Mum really wants to settle back in, and start planning-" His voice cracked. "th-the funeral."

An awkward silence filled the room for a few moments. Then Harry spoke.

"I'm- I'm so sorry, Ron. If I had just-"

Ron quickly interrupted him. "Harry, Fred's death is NOT your fault"

"No," Harry insisted. "I should have just gone to Voldemort straight away, and then Fred and Lupin and Tonks – they'd all be here . . ."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't be!" Ron exclaimed. "Harry, you heard McGonagall. There needed to be sacrifices. You can't blame yourself . . . deaths had to happen."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I know . But why them? Why Fred?"

Ron breathed deep and sat on the bed, shaking his head. "I don't know. . ." His eyes began to fill with tears. Harry quickly sat down next to him.

"Ron," he began. "I- I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's not you, mate. It's just that, I never thought I'd lose one of my brothers. Especially Fred or George."

Harry nodded, and put his arm around Ron. "Well, you can cry if you want, you know. I won't call you a wimp or anything," Harry said with a small smile.

Ron softly laughed. "Thanks, mate."

And for awhile, they just sat there - Ron crying for his lost brother, and Harry sitting next to him, wishing he could do more to help ease his best friend's pain. Finally, minutes later, Ron looked up.

"You know, I just though of something," he said. "Fred must be so mad . . ."

"Why?"

"Well," Ron replied with a small grin, "He has to deal with Zacharias Smith up there."

There was a moment of silence and then Harry laughed, Ron joining in despite the small tears still running down his face. Harry could imagine Fred laughing along with them, wherever he was, and at that moment Harry knew - no matter how horrible things may seem, everything was going okay.

They had to be.


	4. Alone

**A/N: So here's Chapter Four. It's a little shorter than the others but I was trying to get up as soon as possible.There're nice Harry/Hermione FRIENDSHIP moments, a little Lupin mourning and of course some Hr/R bickering** **- I hope you enjoy! Since I'm leaving for vacation on Saturday, I'm not sure I'll get another post up this week. I'll definitely try for one more tomorrow. Where I'm going it's pretty hard to get internet access, but I'll attempt to update this. But if I do dissapear for two weeks, I swear I didn't abandon the story - I'm just stuck in the middle of the Adirondacks! Thanks for reading - please review 3  
**

* * *

"Feels kind of weird to be riding this again," said Ron. 

"Well, not really," Hermione replied. "I mean, the last time we were on it was barely a year ago."

"It was one long year though . . ."

Ron and Hermione were sitting side by side in one of the compartments aboard the Hogwarts Express. Harry and Ginny were sitting across from them, his hand in hers. Luna was still at Hogwarts, waiting for word from her father, and Neville was roaming the corridors of the train, once again looking for his toad. The rest of the Weasleys had already Apparated home from Hogsmeade, but Harry, Ron and Hermione had decided to take the Express back for tradition's sake. They were joined by a few hundred other Hogwarts students. McGonagall had announced that morning at breakfast that all exams were postponed indefinitely, and few people had seen the need to stick around for no reason. She had also, with Harry's help, given a speech honoring Severus Snape and explaining his role in the events of the past few years. Harry personally felt that a lot of people were not convinced, but he figured it was at least a start.

"So, what do you think will happen with exams?" Hermione asked, interrupting Ron's listing of every crucial event that had happened in the past year.

"I was _talking_," Ron replied, shooting Hermione a look.

She rolled her eyes. "No one was even listening, Ron. Anyway, I know McGonagall said they were postponed, but she wasn't really very clear about it, was she?"

"We better not have to come back during the summer to take them," Ginny said.

"Well, it's not like it matters for us. We didn't even –"

"Ron! These are our N.E.W.T.s! You can't just not take them!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Why not? Loads of people don't. We helped defeat Lord Voldemort. Isn't that enough?"

"You're ridiculous, Ronald. No one is going to offer you a job just because you destroyed a Horcrux or two-"

"The Auror department might! Right, Harry?"

"Oh, well, I dunno," Harry began. "But, Hermione , do you really plan on taking N.E.W.T.s? We missed the whole year."

"Well, then, maybe we'll just have to repeat it."

Ginny seemed to perk up at this.

"Yeah! And then you guys would be in my year-"

She was interrupted by the compartment door suddenly being pulled open by Neville, breathing heavily. He stumbled in, Trevor clenched firmly in his fist and promptly collapsed in the seat next to the window. "Got ... him ..."he wheezed out before quickly falling asleep. Ginny and Hermione had to stifle laughs. Neville began to snore loudly while Trevor tried to escape from his tight grasp for the fourth time. Ron was grinning himself. Harry, however, took one look at Neville and remembered another man sitting in the same spot four years prior, sleeping soundly. His heart began to beat wildly and he suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe.

"I- I'll be right back, " he forced out before quickly leaving the compartment and rushing into the empty one across the way.

Harry sat down, trying to steady his breaths. For two days now, he had been trying to accept Lupin's death, but he couldn't ignore the pain he felt whenever he thought of his favorite professor. Harry thought of Lupin's words to him that night in the forest and his tears began to flow. It was so horrible that Lupin had gotten to spend so little time with his son, so horrible that Teddy was going to have to grow up alone, just like himself . . .

"Harry?"

Harry looked up and saw Hermione standing there, a sad look on her face. He quickly tried to wipe the tears off his cheeks.

"I – I had to –just- um-" Harry stammered, trying to come up with a normal explanation for his sudden departure.

But Hermione stopped him. "Lupin," she said simply.

Harry swallowed hard and nodded. Having Hermione as a friend certainly eliminated a lot of excessive explanations.

She looked at him softly. "Are you okay?"

"I – " Harry was about to insist he was fine and that she needn't worry, but all the emotions he had been keeping bottled up for two days just came spilling out.

"I'm really trying to be okay with it, you know?" He began. "I know he was willing to die and that he knew it may happen, but that doesn't make it any easier. . . And it still comes down the fact that if I had acted differently, he wouldn't have died. It's all _my fault_- "

"Harry, you know- "

But he forged on

" It's my fault, my fault he died, his wife died. My fault that his son will never know his parents. My fault that the last of the Marauders is gone . . ." He collapsed into the seat, sobbing.

"Harry, you know no one blames you." Hermione said, trying to comfort him.

"I BLAME ME!" He exclaimed, jumping up. "And it hurts- it hurts so much. . ."

"I know it does," Hermione said, tears in her own eyes. "but that's why you have to share, and talk about it to people-"

"I DON'T HAVE ANYONE TO TALK TO! My parents are dead. I could talk to Sirius, but _he's_ dead And so is Dumbledore and now Lupin. . . And it's not like I can talk to any of the Weasleys because they're all mourning Fred – whose death is _my _fault anyway. So I can't even talk to my best friend or my girlfriend, which basically leaves-"

"Me," Hermione interrupted.

Harry was silenced for a moment.

"Yeah, but you don't want to hear all this," he said

"I'm here now, aren't I?" She replied.

Harry looked at her, feeling slightly embarrassed and sat down slowly.

"You really do need to let it all out once in awhile, Harry," she said, sitting next to him. "It does feel a little better, right?"

Harry gave a small nod. "Thanks, Hermione." He said softly.

"You're welcome." She stood up, and glanced at their compartment across the way. "Now," she continued "we should probably head back before Ron starts to think that we're snogging in here or something-"

"What?!" Harry choked out.

"Oh, not like there's any reason we would be. He's just rather stupid when it comes to emotions sometimes . . . But that doesn't mean you can't talk to him about this stuff - I'm sure he and Ginny would be totally willing to listen . . . no matter what happened with Fred," she added, giving him a compassionate look.

Harry nodded. He wiped a final tear from his face and followed her out of the compartment. Thank God for Hermione, he thought. It still hurt to think of Lupin, but it hurt a lot less knowing he had people who were there for him.

He had finally realized - he didn't have to face everything alone.

Especially this.


	5. Family

After arriving at King's Cross Station, Harry, Hermione, and Ron Apparated to the Burrow, Ginny traveling Side-Along with Harry. They appeared on the slightly browning grass surrounding the familiar home, about ten feet from the front door. Harry and Hermione immediately began walking towards the house, but Ginny and Ron hung back. Harry stopped, glancing at the two Weasleys behind them. They both stood there motionless, looking as if there was nothing they wanted to do less then enter their childhood home.

"It's going to be pretty bad in there, isn't it?" Ginny asked, looking at Ron.

He swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah. Probably. But there's no avoiding it."

Ginny took a deep breath, and blinked back tears. "I know."

Harry watched the two of them, feeling very awkward. He realized that their decision to take the Hogwarts Express back had been about more than nostalgia – it was also a way to briefly escape the reality of Fred's death. He glanced at Hermione, who looked like she felt just as out-of-place. Neither of them had ever lost a sibling, or even had a sibling to lose. For what seemed like the hundredth time in the past few days, Harry wished he could do something to lessen his friends' pain – to just make it all go away.

After standing there in silence for a few moments, Ron finally took Ginny's hand and the two began walking towards the Burrow. They joined Harry and Hermione in front of the home, and with a deep breath, Ron gingerly knocked on the front door.

After a few seconds, Bill opened the door, a worn look on his face. He forced a small smile.

"How was the ride?" He asked, ushering the four inside.

"Same as always," Hermione replied as they entered the house. She was the only one who even made an effort to answer; Harry was glancing all around as Ginny and Ron again stood motionless.. The change in the environment of the Burrow was incredibly palpable. It seemed unnaturally quiet. This was the first time Harry could ever remember entering without being bombarded by Mrs. Weasley and some sort of food she had whipped up.

"Where is everyone?" Ron finally croaked.

Bill sighed. "Mum broke down the second we walked in. She's upstairs in her room, I think. Dad's trying to make her tea," He said, glancing at Mr. Weasley fumbling in the kitchen, "but so far, all he's really accomplished is breaking three saucers and dropping another cup or two. I don't really think he knows what to do with himself right now."

Hermione immediately headed over to Mr. Weasley and began to help him with the tea, as Bill continued. "Charlie went out back a little while ago, I'm not very sure what he's doing .. and Percy's attempting to talk to George. Though I doubt that's going anywhere; he hasn't said a word to anyone since we got back. Lee's apparently gonna come by later ... hopefully, he can help somehow-"

"Bloody hell," Ron loudly interrupted. "This sucks."

Bill shook his head. "No kidding. We've been here for only a few hours, and already the family's falling apart." He plopped down onto the couch, head in his hands.

"You are _not _falling apart." Hermione interjected. She walked over from the kitchen, tray of teacups in hand. "You're just grieving – and that is perfectly normal. Now, I just sent your dad upstairs to be with your mum. He told me that Fleur sent an owl – she's leaving her parent's house soon and she'll be here in an hour. And I really feel like no one should be alone right now, so if anyone feels like going to find Charlie, or talk to George, or even Percy-"

"I should probably go try to talk to George, at least let him know we're back," Ginny said softly. She gave them all a small smile and headed upstairs.

"Yeah, I'm going to go find Charlie – get me when Fleur comes, will you?" Bill added, heading outside.

"Jeez, Hermione." Ron said, collapsing on the couch.

"What?"

"I just don't know how you do it," he replied. "I mean, without you, we probably would have all stood around for another hour or two, still totally lost. You just saved us. In like ... five seconds"

"No, I didn't- "

Ron stood up and grabbed her hand. "Yes. You did."

Hermione smiled softly. "I just want you guys to be okay. For all of us to be." She looked up at Harry at this last bit. He, however, was lost in thought, staring something across the room. She and Ron followed his gaze to the one-of-the-kind clock that was a staple in the Weasley living room. All the hands on the clock were pointing at home, except for one. A new inscription had appeared; Fred's hand now pointed to "the other side".

Silence fell over the room. Ron slowly sat down on the couch again. Harry and Hermione followed, watching as Ron leaned his head back, eyes shut tight. After almost a minute of no one talking, he sat back up.

"So he's really gone," he began.

Harry put his hand on his shoulder. "Yeah." He replied cautiously. "He is."

"But we'll be okay?"

Hermione vigorously nodded, blinking back tears of her own. "Right."

"We'll make it okay," Harry added.

Ron took a deep breath, his best friends on either side of him.

"Okay," he replied, nodding.

"Okay."

The next few days at the Burrow were definitely unlike anything Harry had ever experienced. Harry had been around death his entire life, but he had always been left to deal with each loss by himself. Now Harry found himself in a house where everyone was suffering - mourning the loss of a son, a brother, a friend. He was trying to deal with his own feelings, while also trying to help all the people he loved so much. It seemed that none of the Weasleys knew quite what to do. Harry understood. No matter what he did, everything just felt wrong. Because no matter what, someone was still missing.

Like Hermione had said, Fleur showed about an hour after their own arrival at the Burrow. As soon as she arrived, she took charge of most of the cooking and cleaning in the house, while also keeping a close eye on Bill and the rest of the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley tried to help when she could, but she broke down frequently – it seemed like any little thing could send her into a crying jag. Mr. Weasley tried to comfort her but he was in shock like the rest of the family; he would simply stand by patting her back or smoothing her hair, struggling to not burst into tears himself.

The Weasley children, on the other hand, seemed to dealing with their grief in a variety of ways. Bill had taken on the responsibility of planning Fred's funeral, but with little help from anyone else, the plans weren't getting very far. Meanwhile, Harry had barely seen Charlie. He spent most of his time sitting out in the garden, staring angrily into space. Nobody wanted to approach him, in fear that they would be hit with the rocks he liked to throw forcefully at the walls around him. Percy was having a similarly angry reaction. For someone with a normally calm demeanor, Fred's death had really heightened his temper. In the three days since they'd arrived at the Burrow, he'd already punched his hand through the wall on five different occasions. His actions were definitely worrying, but after his being away from the family for so long, nobody really knew quite how to approach him.

Harry had been spending the most time with Ginny and Ron. He'd challenge Ron to a game of Wizards' Chess, or lie on the living room floor, listening to the radio, with Ginny in his arms and Hermione in Ron's. They were all trying to act as if things were normal, but all four of them were acutely aware that they most certainly weren't. The three nights they had been there, Harry had woken to the sound of Ron crying in the middle of the night. He pretended to be asleep for Ron's sake, but it only further proved to Harry that the laughing, joking persona Ron took on during the daytime was most certainly a façade. Hermione had noticed similar behavior in Ginny. They were both trying so hard to put on a smile; it hurt Harry just to think about how they were really feeling.

However, nobody's behavior was more worrisome than George's. Lee Jordan had shown up a day ago, after spending a little time with his own family. He looked incredibly distraught, both over Fred's death and George's apparent decision to completely ignore him. Harry had overheard Lee multiple times, pleading at George's door a few times for him to come out, but with no avail. In fact, the only person George had even spoken to was Ginny. She was the only person he would let inside in his room, and she spent at least a few hours in there everyday. No matter how much the other Weasleys asked her about what she and George talked about, however, she wouldn't answer– other than to say that she "would tell them if anything was really wrong." This did nothing to stop everyone, especially Mrs. Weasley, from fretting over George's well-being.

"It's just not good for him to be in there like that, by himself all the time," Mrs. Weasley said in a worried tone. She was sitting at the table in the kitchen, eating lunch with the rest of the household – excluding George.

"Well, maybe it's what he needs, Mum," Ginny suggested in a soft voice.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her as she replied.

"I'm his mother. I think I have a pretty good idea of what he needs – and it is not sitting in the empty room all the time!"

"I'm going to go up there again after I finish eating," Lee interjected. "Maybe he'll want to see me today..." Lee said the last part in a slightly wounded tone. Harry knew it must be killing him to have lost Fred, and then have his other best friend completely ignore him. Mrs. Weasley gave Lee a small smile.

"That'd be lovely, dear," she said.

"Hey, Mum," Bill asked, laying his fork down. "You think you're ready to start talking about the funeral plans-"

"Bill!" she quickly interrupted, clearly wishing not to hear the rest of his question. "I'm eating right now; It is clearly not the time-"

Mrs. Weasley's plate lay in front of her untouched.

"Mum, you can't ignore this forever!" Bill exploded. Harry could sense a fight coming on; Bill had been keeping in his frustration for three days too long. "You think I want to be doing this?!" he asked, angrily. "You think..."

Bill continued shouting, despite Ron and Mr. Weasley's efforts to quiet him. Meanwhile Hermione quietly got up, pulling Harry away from the table with her. She walked him into the furthest corner of the living room.

Harry glanced back at the mess they had just left. "Well, this is not good," he began.

"We've got to do something!" Hermione interrupted. "Bill cannot do all of this by himself, he's about to burst-"

"Just did," Harry softly commented.

"Charlie's barely said a word in three days, Percy's breaking every wall in the house. Ginny and Ron won't even talk about what's happened, George won't talk at ALL –"

"Your point?" Harry cut in. "They're all grieving, Hermione. We can't do anything. We can't bring him back."

"I know, Harry. But we can at least bring some perspective. If the funeral plans keep going the way they are, nothing's going to happen till June! We'll just have to sit everyone down tomorrow, and kindly but clearly point that out." She paused. "Fred was a great person. He deserves a great send-off. We can at least help with that."

Harry was silent for a moment.

"Yeah, you're right," he finally answered. "Somebody's got to take control. But I can't do tomorrow, I've got somewhere I need to go-"

"What? Where"

Harry pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "The Goldstein funeral, at 12," he read. "And then Sarah Moon's at 4-"

"Sarah Moon? Who is that?"

"She died for me."

"Harry, what do-" Comprehension appeared on Hermione's face. Her voice softened. "Harry, you didn't even know her. You're not expected to go-"

"Hermione, all these people died fighting in the battle that I started. The battle I needed so I could defeat Voldemort. I've _got _to go. I've checked_ Prophet _– they've already got the funerals of ten others listened as well. I've been checking it out, and I can make it to all of them, even if it means leaving some early-"

"Harry! You are _not _going to fifty four funerals. It won't help-"

Harry interrupted her.

"I know you think you know best, Hermione, and believe me, usually you do – but please, _please_, just leave me alone on this. No matter what you say – I'm going."

Hermione did not look convinced, but she backed down anyway.

"Fine," she said finally. "But just know, Harry – you don't have to do this. You really don't." She glanced at him, a sort of pity in her eyes, and then headed back towards the kitchen.

Harry shook his head, staring at the piece of paper in his hands.

"No," he said to himself. "I really do."


End file.
